Ally Blake - Dating the Rebel Tycoon

Snap! Rosies eyes flew north till they met his. Deep, blue, heavenSeriously?

He laughed. She bit her lip.

Just because hed used her full name in such a deferential way, and just because more than once shed caught him looking at her as if she was the most fascinating creature on the planet, it didnt mean she should go forgetting herself.

He said, Do you want a list of reasons why? Or would you prefer them in the form of a poem?

Rosies heart danced. She knew that taking guidance from ones heart was as sensible as using ones liver for financial-planning advice, having witnessed firsthand what listening to the dancing of your heart could do to a woman. If she needed any further reason to call it a day

And then Cameron had to go and say, What are you doing tomorrow?

Dear Reader,

Did you know that this year is Harlequins sixtieth birthday? Well, it is!

Thinking about it takes me back to the much-loved dog-eared favorites my grandmother kept in boxes galore under her spare bed. I can still smell the old paper, see the creased, faded covers of books read and reread by a true fan and remember opening book after book to check if I had read the story before. And then came a new opening line, a new first time a heroine saw her hero and an old familiar rush of anticipation, delight and warmth.

To tell you the truth, not much has changed! Okay, so maybe a little. The Harlequin books I read now I have picked up in bookstores, not from under my grandmothers bed. Many of them are now written by wonderful, wise, warm women I consider friends. And I am absolutely honored to be a writer of Harlequin romance novels myself. But in the reading, that old familiar feeling that sneaks up when I sink into a story has never gone away.

The very idea that, out there in the world, a reader might pick up one of my books, read the first line and settle in, knowing that she will be in for a fun, flirtatious, moving, sigh-filled ride amazes me every day.

So thanks, Harlequin, for letting me be a part of your world, then and now. Happy birthday and many happy returns!

Ally

www.allyblake.com

Having once been a professional cheerleader, Ally Blake has a motto: Smile and the world smiles with you. One way to make Ally smile is by sending her on holidaysespecially to locations that inspire her writing. New York and Italy are by far her favorite destinations. Other things that make her smile are the gracious city of Melbourne, the gritty Collingwood football team and her gorgeous husband, Mark.

Reading romance novels was a smile-worthy pursuit from long back, so with such valuable preparation already behind her she wrote and sold her first book. Her career as a writer also gives her a perfectly reasonable excuse to indulge in her stationery addiction. That alone is enough to keep her grinning every day!

Ally would love for you to visit her at her Web site, www.allyblake.com.

Ally also writes for Harlequin Presents!

To my baby Boo.
You own my heart, you crack me up,
you dazzle me daily,
and it is my absolute privilege
watching you become you.
Love Mum xxx

C AMERON Kelly opened the heavy side-door of the random building, shut it smartly behind him and became enveloped in darkness. The kind of inky darkness that would make even the bravest boy imagine monsters under the bed.

It was some years since Cameron had been a boy, longer still since hed realised people didnt always tell the truth. When hed found out his two older brothers had made the monsters up.

The small window between himself and the Brisbane winter sunshine outside revealed the coast was clear, and he let his forehead rest on the cold glass with a sheepish thunk .

Of all the people he could have seenmany miles from where a man such as he ought to have been while commerce and industry raged on in the city beyondit had to have been his younger sister Meg, downing take-away coffee and gabbing with her girlfriends.

If Meg had seen him wandering the suburban Botanical Gardens, pondering lily pads and cacti rather than neck-deep in blueprints and permits and funding for multi-million-dollar skyscrapers, she would not have let him be until hed told her why.

So he, a grown mana man of means, and most of the time sensewas hiding. Because the truth would only hurt her. And, even though hed long since been cast as the black sheep of the Kelly clan, hurting those he cared about was the last thing he would ever intentionally do.

He held his watch up to the parcel of light, saw it was nearly nine and grimaced.

Hamish and Bruce, respectively his architect and his project manager, would have been at the CK Square site for more than an hour waiting for him to approve the final plans for the fifty-fourth floor. This close to the end of a very long job, if they hadnt throttled one another by now then he would be very lucky.

He made to open the door to leave, remembered Megthe one person whose leg hed never been able to pull, even with two adept older brothers to show him howand was overtaken by a stronger compulsion than the desire to play intermediary between two grown men. His hand dropped.

Let the boys think he was making a grand entrance when he finally got there. Itd give them something to agree upon for once. He could live with people thinking he had an ego the size of Queensland. He was a Kelly, after all; impressions of grandeur came with the name.

Were closed, a voice echoed somewhere behind him.

He spun on his heel, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Though he hadnt boxed since his last year at St Grellans, in a flash his fists were raised, his fingers wrapped so tight around his thumbs they creaked. Lactic acid burned in his arms. It seemed fresh air, sunshine and tiptoeing through the tulips werent the catharsis for an uneasy mind that they were cracked up to be.

He peered around the huge empty space and couldnt see a thing past the end of his nose, bar a square of pink burned into his retina from the bright light of the window.

Im desperately sorry, the voice said. I seem to have given you a little fright.

Unquestionably female, it was, husky, sweet, mellow tones drifting to him through the darkness with a surprisingly vivid dash of sarcasm, considering she had no idea who she was dealing with.

You didnt frighten me, he insisted.

Then how about you put down your dukes before you knock yourself out?

Cameron, surprised to find his fists were still raised, unclenched all over, letting his hands fall to his sides before shucking his blazer back onto his shoulders.

Now, I love an eager patron as much as the next gal, the mocking voice said. But the show doesnt start for another half-hour. Best you wait outside.

The show? Camerons eyes had become more used to the light, or lack thereof. He could make out a bumpy outline on the horizon, rows of seats decked out auditorium-style. They tipped backwards slightly so that an audience could look upwards without getting neck strain, as the show that went on in this place didnt happen on stage but in the massive domed sky above.

Hed stumbled into the planetarium.

Wow. He hadnt been in the place since he was a kid. It seemed the plastic bucket seats and industrial carpet scraping beneath his shoes hadnt changed.

He craned his neck back as far as it would go, trying to make out the shape and form of the roof. The structural engineer in him wondered about the support mechanisms for the high ceiling, while the vestiges of the young boy whod once upon a time believed in monsters under the bed simply marvelled at the deep, dark, infinite black.